


Lunching and Banging on a Monday Afternoon

by cmere



Series: Dr. Dickhead 💩 [2]
Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alex is a student affairs professional, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Henry gets fucked on a desk, Henry is a professor, Humor, M/M, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, but it's spring break so it's chill, they're dating now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:49:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28816611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmere/pseuds/cmere
Summary: Dear Alex,I realised, subsequent to our conversation at your flat Saturday night, that I failed to enquire whether Student Affairs staff are expected to work during Spring Recess. Faculty are not required to come to campus, a fact which I usually take advantage of to get work done in the rare peace and quiet of my office when it is free from interruptions of nosy colleagues and irresponsible students.All this to say that if you are, in fact, working, I would love to invite you to take our regular Monday lunch in my office in Old Main for a change of pace. If not, please do feel empowered to delete this message posthaste, and I will pretend I’m not a gigantic nerd who goes to work when it’s not required.Sincerely yours,Henry ❤️Alex hadn't exactly been planning to ravish Henry in his office during their lunch date, but it's spring break and no one's around and they really just deserve it.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Series: Dr. Dickhead 💩 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112699
Comments: 50
Kudos: 198





	Lunching and Banging on a Monday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cor321](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cor321/gifts).



> I felt bad that Cor didn't get smut in the first iteration of her gift, so here's part two! :D I hope you like it, sweetheart!!! <3
> 
> Several lovely folks helped me whip this into shape. Massive thanks to [Kate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmulte/pseuds/schmulte), [Meg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixeroli/pseuds/Trixeroli), and [Sconi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sconelover/pseuds/sconelover) for the betas, and special shout out to [Len](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrefectMoony/pseuds/PrefectMoony) for staying up late to assist me in figuring out a stupid ending and always cheering me on with such enthusiasm! <3
> 
> I don't think it's totally necessary to have read the first one to read this, but it might make slightly more sense if you do. Please enjoy :) <3

Alex’s Dr. Dickhead 💩 email folder has gotten a lot fuller in the last three months.

They’ve gone from correspondence four or five times a year—usually about Alex’s events, Henry’s students trying to skip class for Alex’s events, and graduation staffing arrangements—to daily emails, almost always initiated by Henry at the asscrack of dawn, because Alex now knows that Henry starts his day with tea and electronic correspondence while enjoying morning cuddles from his dog, David. Depending on meetings and the season and what time Alex left campus the night before (Sundays are the worst, because he attends the 9 P.M Student Senate meetings, which often run over their scheduled ninety minutes) he tends to roll in between nine and eleven Monday morning, and no matter what urgent news his student office employees have for him, he always takes a moment to close his door and check his email in private.

And no matter how much he pretends he’ll check them in order of timestamp, he inevitably gets drawn in by the subject line of Henry’s and clicks there first.

It happens to be the first day of spring break, so Alex isn’t really sure if he should be expecting an email at all. He didn’t think to ask if Henry still comes in to the office over spring break; staff are always expected to work, but faculty tend to enjoy a lot more freedoms. Alex took the Friday of break off this year, at least. As a treat. And he plans to get drunk Thursday night marathoning The Crown, fall asleep on his couch, and wake up late to continue the whole next day.

There is an email from Henry. In fact, it’s the only unread email in his inbox, a bolded beacon atop a mountain of boring unfinished business, sent at 7:43 A.M. Alex is secretly glad to see Henry must have slept in a little.

_**Subj: Bona to vada your dolly old eek** _

_Dear Alex,_

_I realised, subsequent to our conversation at your flat Saturday night, that I failed to enquire whether Student Affairs staff are expected to work during Spring Recess. Faculty are not required to come to campus, a fact which I usually take advantage of to get work done in the rare peace and quiet of my office when it is free from interruptions of nosy colleagues and irresponsible students._

_All this to say that if you are, in fact, working, I would love to invite you to take our regular Monday lunch in my office in Old Main for a change of pace. If not, please do feel empowered to delete this message posthaste, and I will pretend I’m not a gigantic nerd who goes to work when it’s not required._

_Sincerely yours,_  
_Henry ❤️_

Alex is grinning at his computer screen. He’s fucking grinning at his computer screen on a Monday morning while reading words like _subsequent_ and _posthaste_. He has, he's fully aware, become slightly pathetic since they started dating; his instantaneous recognition of the subject line being an early twentieth century U.K. gay dialect is enough to tell him he's spending way too much time around Henry's research. But it’s the heart emoji that really gets to him—Henry almost never uses emojis unless he’s drunk, or, Alex has learned quite recently, feeling soppy and romantic.

Alex hits reply.

_My overly articulate and pathetically self-effacing professor,_

_Of course Student Affairs staff have to work during spring break, unless we take one of our annual allotted ten days of vacation time (which I happen to be doing this Friday, in case you wanna join me for a Crown marathon). It pains me in ways I can’t really describe to know that you’re sitting in your ergonomic but still not really that comfortable chair in Old Main when you could be at home in bed with David in your pajamas. But all that to say, I guess I’ll make the great sacrifice of walking across campus to have lunch with you in your office. Did you bring anything for me, or do I need to stop at the cafeteria?_

_Besos,_  
_Alex_

_P.S. Does the subject line mean "good morning strumpet"?_  
_P.P.S. ❤️_

Alex busies himself with pretending that imagining Henry reading the email and smiling doesn't make his heart flutter and turns to the rest of his inbox, which is in desperate need of attention. As Henry noted, the one nice thing about working when there's no students around is actually getting stuff done without being interrupted by a head popping through his doorway every five seconds.

A new email appears a couple minutes later. Alex's heart rate increases.

_Dear Alex,_

_I have brought an extra serving of butternut squash curry over quinoa with me in case I ran into any adults who are incapable of feeding themselves anything other than an array of cold pizza, stale crisps, and coffee-flavoured sludge._

_Ten annual days of vacation time is criminal._

_In case you need the reminder, my office is Old Main 304. Try not to be spooked by the utter lack of human activity. I do think the ghost is hanging around somewhere._

_See you at noon._

_Sincerely yours,_  
_Henry ❤️_

_P.S. Close enough._  
_P.P.S. I would be delighted to join you for the Crown marathon on Friday, but only if you promise to provide sufficient beverages such that I am prevented from thinking too deeply about all the issues inherent to my country’s monarchy._  
_P.P.P.S. ❤️❤️❤️_

Alex is extremely tempted to reply with something scathing about Henry’s criticism of his ability to adult, but instead he just files away the email with his stomach squirming. It's 10:21 AM. He can make it til noon.

—

"You weren't kidding about it being a ghost town over here."

Henry physically jumps, which delights Alex to no end, considering he's usually the one Henry is scaring by sneaking up on him with his oddly silent footsteps. 

"Alex," Henry says warmly, spinning around in his chair with a smile from where he appeared to be filing something. "Yes, I've made the rounds and I appear to be the lone History professor who's made the trek today. There's no one else on this floor, at least."

Henry gestures for Alex to sit across from him. His desk is sprawling antique wood, intricately carved and impeccably neat. To one side, there's a stack of papers, upon which Henry sets his now-closed laptop; to the other, a small succulent garden, a framed photo, and two Pyrex containers of curry, apparently already having been warmed if the fog on the glass is anything to go by. Henry's so fucking thoughtful about sharing his healthy Sunday meal prep lunches with Alex that it kind of makes him want to scream, but not in a bad way. He closes Henry's office door and locks it behind him, then peeps out the small window to the hall before closing the shade.

"Really? No one?" Alex turns back with an innocent smile and walks—well, struts—over toward the desk. Henry's eyes go a little bit wider as his gaze falls to Alex's swaying hips.

"Erm, correct." 

Alex bypasses the desk and climbs onto Henry's chair instead, straddling him. Henry's eyebrows shoot up as he receives him, hands coming up seemingly automatically to the hips he was just watching cross the room.

"So we're alone," Alex says in a low voice. Henry's thumbs find their way up under Alex's t-shirt and rub slow circles into the soft skin just inside his hip bones. The feel of it is already sending a tingle down Alex's spine. 

"We're alone, yes, but, er, this is still my office, and we're still at work, and I'm not sure—"

Alex cuts him off by cupping his jaw with both hands and crushing their mouths together in a fiery kiss. Henry's protestations die on his tongue, which very quickly becomes otherwise occupied in Alex's mouth. Alex tries not to smirk into it, but it's hard.

"Don't be a prat," Henry breaks away to warn him, apparently having noticed. "Or I'll have to find someone else to share my curry with."

"Baby," Alex says softly into his ear, then drags his tongue along the shell. He can practically feel Henry melt underneath him. "It's not my fault you're irresistible."

"Unfair," Henry says, but his hands are slipping entirely up under Alex's shirt now, the barest of touches over Alex's sides, his back. "Are you seriously trying to seduce me in those shorts?"

Alex glances down at his threadbare cargo shorts, their appearance at work a result of the overlap between spring break and laundry day. "Is it working?" 

Henry grips his waist tight, drawing Alex's eyes back up to his piercing gaze. Alex shivers as he falls into him again, kissing him hard, open and seeking. He hadn't exactly been _planning_ to come here and ravish Henry in his office, but he’s just so goddamn thoughtful and adorable and sexy as hell, and he probably thinks he's dressed casually even though he's still in nice slacks and a button-down, and midterms just ended and it's spring break and no one's around and fuck, they _deserve_ it.

They make out for a bit until they're both worked up, hot and panting and starting to sweat. Henry's hands are all over Alex's back now, roaming and roaming, palming his shoulder blades, fingering along his vertebrae. Alex can feel Henry hard beneath him, and his own dick is throbbing in his shorts. _Fuck_. He could spend hours just kissing Henry like this, but they should probably get down to business if they want to have any hope of not getting caught by a random custodian or public safety officer doing the rounds.

At that moment, Alex realizes he didn’t think this entirely through. He knows he has a condom in his wallet, but he didn’t bring…

“Lube,” he breathes, pulling back and looking at Henry with wide eyes. He’s not sure what kind of response he’s expecting; probably some protest or eye roll or Henry teasing him for being so ridiculously horny all the time and saying of course they can’t do _that_ in his office, anyway. But Henry just bites his lip, looks up at Alex with big blue eyes, and jerks his chin to the left.

“In my briefcase.” His voice sounds ragged; it sends arousal rippling through Alex’s body.

“You have lube,” Alex says slowly, pronouncing each word carefully, “in your briefcase?”

Henry instantly turns bright red, one of Alex's favorite sights. “I like to be...prepared.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Alex says with a lecherous waggle of eyebrows. 

He’s learned over the past three months that Henry is particularly fond of being prepped, which in practice is just getting fingered as much as possible at every opportunity, whether it leads to Alex fucking him or not. Henry had also tipsily revealed the previous Saturday night that he often fingers himself while he masturbates. This had led to Alex soundly fucking him that night _and_ the following morning, and then jerking off two more times that day to the mental image of Henry knuckle-deep in his own ass.

Jesus fucking Christ. Alex is practically a horny teenager again. He can't remember the last time he felt like this. There’s something about Henry, the way he appears so pompous and closed-off but is actually so eager to peel back every layer and lay himself bare for Alex that’s so fucking enticing. Like once Alex gave him permission to start sharing himself, it all began to pour out of him, a creek in spring taking on the melting snow, growing from a trickle to a rush. It’s not just the sex; it’s everything Henry is, everything he does, everything he wants and tries for and achieves. 

Alex just fucking...likes him. That’s all. He likes him a lot.

Henry’s soft laugh gets his attention, his fingers coming up to touch Alex’s jaw. “Alex, I...Christ, I want you so badly right now, but I also don’t want to get sacked because this job is kind of the only thing keeping me legally in this country right now.”

Alex smirks. “Isn’t it basically impossible to fire professors anyway?”

“I haven’t achieved tenure yet, so not for me.”

“Are you saying I have to wait to fuck you in your office until you’ve achieved tenure? Because that’s, like, the least sexy thing I’ve ever heard.”

Henry laughs and bites his lip again. “I’m saying...that if you’re going to fuck me, you had better make it quick, hadn’t you?”

Desire thrums through Alex’s veins. “Fuck, yes.” 

He jumps up to search through Henry’s briefcase for the lube, finding stacks of papers, a dog toy, and a first aid kit before digging into the tiny zippered side pocket and locating it. It’s the smallest bottle of lube Alex has ever seen.

“Travel sized,” Henry says, grinning, as Alex climbs back onto his feet. 

“When I inevitably die prematurely from an instance exactly like this one, will you at least tell everyone I died happy?”

“It will be my pleasure.”

“Good. Now bend over the desk, sweetheart.”

Henry barks out a surprised laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“This desk is a lot nicer than mine,” Alex says, trailing his fingers along it. “Fucking academics.”

“You’re usually too busy eating free food at parties to be at your desk anyway, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you,” Alex shoots back, glaring.

“That’s exactly what I’m waiting for.”

“Then bend the fuck over and stop giving me lip.”

Henry looks like he’s in the mood to argue, his mouth halfway to a retort, but he stops himself, rising slowly from the chair and rolling it off to the side so there’s more room. He slowly bends himself over the desk, bracing his arms on it and widening his stance before slitting his gaze to Alex at his side.

“Like this?"

“Yeah,” Alex says. His breathing is suddenly coming a lot quicker at the sight of Henry spread out for him over antique wood, even though he’s still fully clothed. “Just like that. God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“Get on with it,” Henry says, but he sounds pleased. Alex moves, stepping up behind him and bringing one hand between his thighs. He lets it drift slowly up his right leg, then repeats the movement on his left, until Henry is squirming back against him, making a frustrated noise. He says, “Is this what you call getting on with it? Teasing me until I expire of old age?”

“Until you achieve tenure," Alex shoots back. Henry scoffs. "Don’t make me make you beg, sweetheart.” 

Alex finally cups Henry’s balls through layers of fabric, rubbing slowly. Henry twitches.

“Christ,” he says unsteadily. “I’ll beg if that’s what you need to finally get going.”

“I can’t help enjoying how perfect you are like this,” Alex says, sliding his hand forward, feeling the length of Henry’s erection. “You feel so fucking good.”

“You feel good,” Henry says, moaning a little. He rubs himself into Alex’s hand, rocking his hips, bending down further until his elbows are on the desk.

“Yeah? You like that?” Alex drags his thumb and pointer finger down the shaft; Henry’s actually shaking a little. It turns Alex on to no end to feel him like this.

"Please, darling," Henry says in a small, weak voice, and Alex finally takes pity on him. He brings both hands up around Henry's waist and undoes his ridiculously buttery leather belt, then the fastenings of his ridiculously silky trousers. Even his boxer briefs are probably some kind of ethically sourced organic cotton. He's so put together and perfect all the time; Alex wants to mess him up.

Alex yanks down Henry's pants and underwear in one fell swoop, letting his hands caress the soft, pale skin of his ass. Henry gasps and drops his head onto his arms, simultaneously arching his back so his butt rises further into the air. 

"God, you want it so bad," Alex breathes, running one finger down the crevice, making Henry shiver.

"Want _you_ ," Henry says, muffled into his arms. Alex's heart twists in a weird way that seems inappropriate for the moment. 

He finally squirts some lube onto his fingers and spreads Henry open, finds his hole and rubs around the outside. Henry whimpers; Alex fucking loves that sound. He folds himself over Henry's back, brings his mouth to Henry's earlobe as he presses forward, licking and sucking. Henry turns his face toward Alex, so Alex has the pleasure of seeing his mouth drop open when he slips easily inside him. He trails his mouth over Henry's jaw, then presses their cheeks together as he starts fucking him with his fingers.

"You look so fucking good like this," Alex says quietly, mouth half against the corner of Henry's lips. "Love seeing you spread out for me over your desk. I want you to think about me fucking you every single day when you sit down here to do your research and plan your classes. Want you to feel me inside you as you're doing it."

Henry lets out a choked noise. Alex is fucking him faster now, two fingers, aiming up. Henry's face, which had returned to a regular pink flush of arousal, is growing redder and redder again. Alex presses his body into Henry's side, making sure Henry feels the rough material against his sensitive skin, grinds a little bit for some friction on his aching cock. Henry is deliciously hot and tight around his fingers, stretching open to mold around him, and Alex is about to move into position to fuck him when Henry presses his face back into his arms and fucking _mewls_ , jerking his ass back and forth on Alex's fingers. 

"Fuck," Alex whispers, perpetually in wonder at the way Henry's body responds to him, the way Henry always acts like he _needs_ Alex inside him. He straightens himself up, fucking into Henry hard and fast and purposeful as Henry shoves himself onto Alex's fingers and clenches around him. Henry's arms stretch out to grip the opposite end of the desk, his shirt rucked up halfway around his back, his hips moving furiously over Alex's hand, and fuck if it isn't the hottest goddamn thing Alex has ever seen. "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, okay?"

"Wait," Henry moans, strangled and desperate, his entire body tensed and shaking. "Don't stop."

"I thought you wanted this to go quick—"

"Augh," Henry cries as Alex rubs hard up inside him. Alex lets it go on for another minute before Henry tightens around his fingers and pants, "Oh, Christ. Stop or I'll come."

"Jesus _fuck_ ," Alex says, stilling his hand. Henry feels so alive, wet warmth pulsing around him, trapping him inside and making him quiver in anticipation of what's to come. "Now can I fuck you?"

"Please," Henry says, polite as ever, even with his face buried in his biceps and his ass sticking in the air. Alex carefully removes his fingers, fumbling to pull a condom out of his wallet and open the fastenings of his shorts without covering himself in lube. He finally gets everything dropped to the ground with a grunt.

"This is so hot," Alex says, ripping open the condom and sliding it on, unable to tear his eyes away from Henry's ass, his pale, muscular thighs, the curve of his calves, his dress pants pooled around his ankles. "Why is this so fucking hot?"

"Bad," Henry mumbles. "Naughty."

His words pull a surprised laugh out of Alex's chest. "Naughtier than making out wrapped in pipe and drape in the student union?"

"Definitely. That was completely innocent."

All of a sudden, the only thing Alex wants is to see what Henry looks like while they're doing this. He palms at Henry's hips, dragging him back and up, and Henry makes a surprised noise as Alex spins him around. He takes a moment to examine Henry's face: skin flushed deep red, eyes darkened with arousal, lips parted and panting. His chest is heaving like he's just run halfway across campus and up two flights of stairs, but all he's actually done is ride Alex's fingers and stop himself from having a prostate orgasm, which Alex supposes is possibly the same amount of exertion.

Alex shoves him backwards. Henry goes willingly, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the desk, kicking his shoes off and letting his pants fall to the floor. Alex grabs his shirtfront and drags him into a searing kiss, heat passing furiously between them and filling Alex with a spreading kind of glow, as much sensation as emotion. Finally, he reluctantly gives Henry one more nudge until he’s lying on his back across the desk. His legs rise into the air automatically; Alex helps lift them up so they're bent at the knees just a little, falling open. 

Alex's hands wrap either ankle to steady him, and he pauses for a second just to _look_. Henry is spread and gaping for him, his hole glistening with lube. Alex bites into his ankle with a moan and Henry’s head jerks up, knocking the framed photo of David off the back of the desk. There's no sound of shattering glass, so Alex pays it no mind.

“Baby. I’m sorry. I have to rim you.” Alex starts to sink down.

“ _No_ ,” Henry cries out emphatically. “Fuck me _now_ , you absolute wanker.” He tries to clamp his legs around Alex’s neck, but Alex's grip on his ankles is ironclad, keeping him open wide.

“You’re too fucking hot like this. I _need_ to.”

“Don’t—you—" Henry is panting and attempting to kick at Alex’s shoulders. “Fucking—dare—you fuck me right now, Alexander Claremont-Diaz!”

Alex makes the mistake of glancing down again and bites his lip, groaning. “I have never wanted to eat you out more than in this moment. Do you understand me?”

Henry drops his head back down against the desk with a thunk, bringing one hand up to grip the edge above it and the other hand to his cock. He starts jerking off with absolutely no delicacy, just fucking letting loose on himself, and Alex’s mouth drops open.

“I’m coming sooner rather than later, and as soon as I do, I’m done with you, so go on and do whatever you need to do—"

“Okay, okay, I’ll fuck you, God.” Alex tries not to go into a full-on whine. “Just remember how generous I am later, okay?” He rests one of Henry’s legs against his shoulder to line up his cock.

“There’ll be statues—in the quad—erected to your magnanimity—" Henry cuts off with a punched breath as Alex sinks into him, not pausing for a second before picking up a quick, shallow pace. It feels just as incredible as it did on Alex’s fingers, and with Henry tightening around all the sweet nerve endings in the head of his cock, it’s a wonder Alex even manages to stay standing.

“Only you would say _erected_ and _magnanimity_ at a time like this—"

“Shut up,” Henry nearly yells, his legs flying around in the air as Alex slams into him again and again. He’s still working himself furiously, and Alex does shut up, then, but not because of Henry’s words. He looks down and locks eyes with him, and Henry’s mouth drops open wider, and his entire face kind of crumples like Alex is literally fucking him speechless, and when those beautiful blue eyes finally squeeze shut, his entire face transforms into the epitome of pleasure, of beauty, of gratitude, and it hits Alex hard, right in the gut.

“Baby,” Alex says, hoarse and breathless. He’s flying towards orgasm now, finding Henry’s thighs and gripping them tight for something to hold onto, remembering what Henry said about coming sooner rather than later and determined to beat him to it, even with Henry’s head start. 

Henry’s knees end up kind of bent over Alex’s shoulders, and his ass actually lifts up into the air as Alex fucks into him, white knuckling the edge of the desk with one hand and his cock with the other. The pleasure that had been building low in Alex’s belly starts to spread, filling him up. It seeps into his limbs, out to the tips of his fingers and toes, and only then does he thrust deep as he comes, not stopping even with the intensity of it. He wants Henry to come while he’s still inside, wants to feel his orgasm from the inside out—

Henry’s hips jerk once, twice, and he’s spilling all over his fingers, the clenching heat of his ass surrounding Alex’s sensitive cock. Fuck, it feels good, and fuck, Henry is so beautiful, laid out for him like this and completely fucking destroyed, flushed and messed with come and moaning with just the slightest laugh.

Alex wants to kiss him, but he can’t reach his mouth, so he settles for dropping his lips to the inside of Henry’s knee, up near his shoulder. Henry’s eyes fly open; they're glimmering with emotion in a way that Alex isn't expecting. He swallows hard, unable to look away.

Henry releases the desk from his grasp and brings his arm down, attempting to lower his legs, push himself up. In the process, his hand collides with the Pyrex containers full of curry, sending them to the floor.

Alex and Henry lock eyes momentarily, then burst into laughter. Alex carefully pulls out and sees a flutter of an expression cross Henry’s face, like he’s thinking about telling him not to, but realizes at the last minute it’s not exactly the time or place. _God_. He can't believe a History professor is going to be the fucking end of him.

“Fuck,” Henry says, causing a wild grin to cross Alex’s features.

“Yeah,” he agrees, trying to clean himself up a little, slightly unsure of what to do with the condom because he doesn’t think leaving it in the office trash can is a very good look.

“I’ve come all over my shirt,” Henry says, still breathless. “You couldn’t have removed it first?”

“You’re the one who told me to hurry up, sweetheart,” Alex replies, pulling his shorts up and offering his hand to help Henry down from the desk. Henry takes it, then wraps his arms around Alex’s waist as he stands on shaky legs. They stay like that for a moment; Henry breathes warm air against Alex’s neck, and Alex holds him. He's learned over the past three months that Henry takes his postcoital cuddling very seriously, and it’s as close to a cuddle as they’re going to get in this situation. Alex presses an open-mouthed kiss to Henry’s collarbone, beating heart against beating heart.

“Well, I think a half day will do for me,” Henry says brightly as he grimaces down at himself. “Care to join me at mine for a shower and some actual lunch?”

“I should get back to work,” Alex says, running a hand through his hair. Henry’s wiping pathetically at his front with a few tissues, pulling his boxer briefs and pants back on. “I’m so behind on everything. I have, like, three months of credit card statements to reconcile.”

“You work too hard, love.” Henry strokes the back of his knuckles over Alex’s cheek. “Weren’t you just putting in massive overtime for that Spring Jam, er, thing? Surely you could take an afternoon?”

“I—yeah, maybe.”

Henry leans in, lips brushing his ear. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Fuck it,” Alex says immediately. “I’ll just text Zahra that I’m taking a half day of personal time.”

Henry grins at him, giving his waist a light squeeze before turning to straighten up his desk. Alex fires off the message to Zahra and receives an instant reply.

_Do I look like I give a shit?_

Alex is fucked out enough that he doesn’t even send a snarky reply, just drops down to help Henry wipe up the mess on the floor. Their eyes meet over a pile of curry and quinoa; Henry is smiling softly, looking pink and mussed and relaxed and beautiful.

“This smells good and all,” Alex tells him, “but I think I would have preferred to eat your ass.” Henry chokes on air as Alex just smirks at him.

“Well,” Henry says loftily after he’s recovered, “perhaps it will be available later. When we're not _in my office."_

"I'm not sure it'll have the same appeal then."

"You are a demon."

“You love me,” Alex says without thinking. His entire face promptly erupts in flames. He’s now pointedly avoiding eye contact, but he thinks Henry looks amused. He plows on, “And my epic rimjobs. Admit you love my epic rimjobs.”

“I do.” Alex finally looks up to see Henry massively grinning with an actual twinkle in his eye. “Are you ready to go so we can get to it?”

Alex finds himself grinning, too, as he stands. “I’ve been ready. You’re the one who made a huge mess.”

Henry catches his wrist after tossing everything in the trash. “Hey.”

Alex looks up to find Henry gazing at him seriously, his brow softened. He briefly panics, wondering if he’s about to get called out on his slip. It’s way too soon for that kind of talk.

Instead, Henry just pulls Alex into a deep, lingering kiss, the kind that leaves him breathless with a fluttering heart and an actual ache growing in his chest. It’s been happening a lot more often lately.

“Thanks for coming all the way across campus for lunch,” Henry murmurs against his lips.

“Thanks for not coming until I fucked you,” Alex returns as innocently as possible. He pulls back to see Henry’s eyes roll dramatically and smiles, basking in the deep satisfaction of a successful comeback. 

Though as Henry’s thumb brushes across his cheek, his expression turning tender again, he has to admit there’s something more to the feeling, too.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are amazing!!! I'm on [tumblr](https://omgcmere.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/cmere) <3


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